


To trust a Wicked Heart

by xDomino009x



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Briala is mean, Emotional Manipulation, F/F, Or an attempt at it..., Reconciliation, Set after WE&WH, the fluff is a lie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 13:23:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9493361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xDomino009x/pseuds/xDomino009x
Summary: Briala visits Celene in her room after the fiasco at the peace talks. Celene is surprised, but the visit isn't what she'd hoped for





	

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah I finally wrote a thing for my favourites. They were so fun to write for, I love them, I'm such trash for these two.  
> I'd say I hope this is as fun for you to read as it was for me but... angst is angsty. Enjoy?

Celene sighed as she removed her mask and set it down on her dresser. She had  dismissed her handmaiden this evening as soon as she had been helped out of the corset to her dress, as soon as it was loose enough that she could get herself out of it. She hadn't been Empress for years and not learned how to dress herself, despite evidence to the contrary.

She looked at it for a moment and sighed again, thinking of all it had cost her, all the game had cost her. She had lost so much these last few months. The trust of half her subjects, the lives of those who still believed in her, the love of the woman she had risked everything for.

There was nothing that the game kept sacred, no secret that it did not overturn or ruin in the end. Nothing good could remain in Orlais without withering away. She had been lucky to have her elven love as long as she did.

The door clicked open and closed behind her. She rolled her eyes, something she rarely did for she was rarely alone and able to do so. It felt freeing to make such bold shows of annoyance without thought.

With half a mind to ask her handmaiden to stay and help her untie her hair since she was here, Celene turned around.

It was not her handmaiden standing in front of the door, but the very woman she had just been thinking of, mourning the loss of even.

“Briala, I didn't expect you,” she stated. That much must have been obvious from her expression, for Briala just nodded and smiled, moving closer and glancing over to the discarded mask on the dresser. It was nice to see the Empress without it once more.

“I know,” she replied, moving to the dresser and signalling for Celene to take a seat. She watched as blue eyes scanned her for hidden weapons before the human took the seat and sat up waiting patiently. “I wanted to surprise you.”

Celene smiled as fingers ran through her hair, fingers she remembered being much rougher and demanding on nights they had shared previously. Maybe months ago she would have seized this moment to throw Briala against the wall with force to knock the smug smile from her face. But now she sat and enjoyed her touches as she removed pins from her hair and set them aside carefully.

“I don't know that I deserve your surprises anymore,” the Empress muttered darkly, half to herself.

Briala faltered for a moment but continued her work. She was diligent, just as she had been when she was Celene's handmaiden and spymaster. It was a strangely nice feeling to return to this old routine. “Neither do I, yet here I am Celene.” The confession made them both wince, Celene inwardly and Briala visibly. Celene watched her with avid attention in the mirror, burning her frown into her memory just as she had a hundred smiles. Sometimes those memories were all she could rely on to get her through that day. Sometimes she needed Briala back by her side.

But even though she was the Empress she didn't get everything she wanted. She didn't get who she wanted. It seemed she could have anyone else but her.

After a long, tense silence Celene burst out with, “What do you see when you look at me.”

Briala was taken aback a little by the abrupt question, but deflected with humour, “A tired Empress,” before she actually put some thought into her words and moved beside her empress, crouching beside the hair with her hand’s in Celene’s lap. Celene took her hands as the elf added, “And a strong ruler. Eyes that shine like springtime…” She had moved closer as she said these words, and took one of her hands to run through Celene’s hair, unbraiding it with her fingers before bringing it to the Empress’ lips and tickling her skin.

“Hair that no longer smells of smoke.”

Celene closed her eyes and breathed in, smelling nothing in her hair but the honeysuckle shampoo she had used with her morning bath. She felt a hand on her cheek, hot breath and curled hair against her lips instead of her own. “Bria…” she whispered, her voice just edging on husky and her eyes still closed.

“If you don’t want me anymore I can live with that,” Briala whispered back, so close she must be no more than a few inches from Celene’s face, “I just can’t live with you thinking I hate you.”

At that Celene opened her eyes and rose to her feet, her long ashen hair falling back over her shoulders. She took Briala with her as she stood, gripping her hand tight, holding the other hand still against her cheek and turning to kiss the elf’s palm. “I want you Bria, Maker I always have.” She sounded like she was pining, she knew it but Andraste help her she couldn't care less. “I don't know how to stop wanting you.”

Briala took a step back, taking her hand’s from Celene’s.

“Good.”

The Empress gave her a puzzled look, cocking her head slightly to the side and reaching for the hands that had left her cheek cold. “Bria?” She waited for a moment, hoping the elf would explain herself, but no answer came. “Briala what is it?” she pushed, determined to get some kind of answer. She was worried, surely Briala could understand that.

Briala sighed and shook her head. She was smiling, but it was a sad smile. It didn't suit her, not at all. Celene didn't know what was coming but she braced herself. Whatever it was, she was sure she deserved it.

“I need you to _know_ I hate you,” Briala said slowly, quietly. Her voice made Celene’s heart skip a beat, her words made it tighten with fear. She should not have loved this dangerous woman, she should not love her. “I need you to know how it feels to have everything you want taken away from you.”

“Briala, what are you saying.” She knew exactly what she was saying, she had played right into her hands. Once again she had done exactly what she’d expected her to do. Briala knew her too well, she had gotten too close in the many years they had been together as friends and lovers and now as something that she couldn't describe and dared not to think of a word for.

“I’m saying that what else I see is a murderer, a traitor, a woman who couldn’t sacrifice her pride for the good of her people.”

Celene found herself fuming suddenly, quicker than she liked to think she’d get angry. But Briala had always been able to get under her skin, in good and bad ways. When they argued Celene was the first to anger, when they made up she was the last to apologise. “I did what I did for the good of my people. Do you think I enjoyed burning the Alienage?” She was close to shouting now.

“Halamshiral!” Briala jabbed the word at her like the tip of a dagger. “This place, where you force us to stay. It’s called Halamshiral, it belongs to my people not to an Empress too eager to put them to the torch.”

Celene was quieter when she spoke again, ready to slump back into her chair but trying to hold herself in place. She wouldn't crumble in front of Briala, she wasn't about to show her how weak she was. And she was weak, they both knew it. But only Celene could feel it right now. “You don't believe that,” she said, trying to convince herself more than get the truth out of Briala.

“I wanted you to know how it felt to lose the one thing you love more than anything. This makes us even.” With that Briala turned on her heel, exiting the way she had come in.

She didn't heard the mask as it clattered against the far wall instead of sitting in its place on Celene’s dresser. She didn't hear the woman she longed to call a lover again choking back her tears. She didn't want to hear.

Celene had no choice but to lay awake, listening to her own sobbing.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, let me know what you thought if you like, I love hearing from you guys. Hope you enjoyed this


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